


Beat Rock Love: Rock Out

by lucybeetle



Series: Beat Rock Love [2]
Category: Kamen Rider Ghost
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Crack, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 23:09:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6630838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucybeetle/pseuds/lucybeetle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Everyone seems certain, except Makoto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beat Rock Love: Rock Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [guava](https://archiveofourown.org/users/guava/gifts).



> Once again, I can't take credit for any of the song lyrics featured. This time, I took them from bath and body product packaging. Alan's "erotic" texts were inspired by RP with gingayellow, whose fic deserves a mention, and who gave us the Kuuga/Timeranger crossover we've all been waiting for.
> 
> A huge thanks to guava who was a lovely recipient and a joy to write for. This chapter, as the first, is for you.

For once in Makoto’s life, things weren’t as bad as he’d feared.

He had moved into a new apartment with Alan, with whom he was very much in love (some of the time), and it was bigger and nicer than the apartment they’d shared the first time around. Kanon had also moved in with them, and was helping them decorate; her ideas were better than Alan’s, and she was usually adorable enough to talk him out of them. Alan’s father had all sorts of plans for ATM’s comeback, which Makoto hadn’t entirely agreed to, but he didn’t mind. He’d been hanging out with Takeru and Alan a lot, playing music and writing some new material. To his surprise, there actually seemed to be some demand for them to reunite as a band. Takeru’s fans seemed keen on the idea and even some of Makoto’s liked it – although he’d got a bit of mockery online, most of his fanbase had been supportive of what he wanted to do.  

Life seemed to be going his way for once, except that perhaps the Alan thing wasn’t as much of a done deal as Makoto had thought.

He was happy enough with Alan; that was true. Alan himself seemed to be over the moon that he and Makoto were now an item. Kanon adored having Alan around, and Takeru was delighted that his two best friends were back together again. It was just the little things that made Makoto question sometimes, like when he was sitting waiting for an appointment with his bank manager and received a text with a picture of Alan shirtless.

Makoto texted back, _What’s that for?!_

About thirty seconds later, the reply came. _I am attempting to “sext” you._

Well, that was strange, and a little creepy. Also unnecessary, because Makoto was used to seeing Alan wandering about the house without a stitch on anyway. He texted back _Do you even know what sexting is_?

 _Yes_ was the almost instant answer and then _8== > Apparently, this represents a penis. Now it is time for you to send me an erotic picture in return._

Makoto didn’t dignify this with a reply, just switched his phone off. When he switched it on again, after his meeting, he had twelve missed calls.

***

“How’s Alan?” said Takeru, as he and Makoto sat in a café. Takeru was eating some kind of fancy parfait thing and had cream on his lips. Makoto, as usual, was just drinking a cup of black coffee.

“He’s fine,” said Makoto. “How’s _your_ love life?”

Takeru shrugged. None of his relationships ever got very far. Akari and Onari had been married for a few years now and had a daughter, as well as adopting an art student who had stayed with them on a foreign exchange. Takeru seemed content to just be an “uncle” to their family and not worry about settling down on his own account.

“He’s really into you, you know,” said Takeru. “When you’re not around, he always talks about you.”

Makoto said nothing.

“Do you ever think about taking it further?”

“How much further can we take it?” said Makoto. “We already live together.”

“You could get married. Well, not properly, but you can get a partnership recognised by the local authorities.”

Makoto snorted, “That would be hardly worth the paper it’s printed on. Why are you asking, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” said Takeru. “I just wondered what it would be like if my other two best friends got married.”

“I said. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Takeru changed the subject and started talking about ATM’s reunion plans. Alan’s father wanted to test the waters with a short tour of small venues around the Tokyo-Yokohama region, with a view to releasing new material if all went well. They had been attending meetings with Alan’s father; with an endless series of stylists and voice coaches and PR gurus and other such so-called experts; and with a guy called Javert who was supposed to take care of all their finances. Javert was always obsequious to Alan, and kept giving Makoto dirty looks. Alan had thus far either not noticed or just didn’t care.

The whole reunion was starting to make Makoto’s head ache, but he was happy to discuss ideas with Takeru. This was Takeru’s pet project after all and Makoto had him to thank for a lot of things. Because of Takeru, Makoto was working with his two best friends again and had Alan back (OK, that was a mixed blessing, but still.) Less recently, but most importantly, Takeru had saved Kanon’s life by donating a kidney for her when Makoto wasn’t well enough to do it. Makoto knew that he and Takeru would always be close; and being in a band together was just the icing on the cake.

They were happily discussing ideas for sets and costumes when Makoto’s phone rang. He felt his entire body tense as he looked down at the screen and saw that it was Alan.

“Aren’t you gonna answer it?” said Takeru.

Under normal circumstances, Makoto might have ignored it; but this time he felt like he had to take the call. “Hello?”

“Good afternoon, Specter. Where are you?” said Alan.

Makoto swallowed. Takeru was watching him quizzically, “I’m with Takeru. I’m at –” and then Makoto gave the address of the café.

“I will be along to pick you up shortly. Please wait,” said Alan. He hung up.

“What was all that about?” said Takeru when Makoto put down the phone.

“Nothing. Alan’s coming to see us, that’s all.”

Alan arrived with his hands full of paper cups, and placed one each in front of Takeru and Makoto, “Hello, Specter and Tenkuuji Takeru. I have brought tea for you.”

Makoto took the lid off the cup. It was sencha, which he wasn’t fond of, and Alan knew it, “I prefer coffee.”

“Coffee is bad for you. Tea has many beneficial properties. You should be getting in shape for our forthcoming tour,” said Alan.

“Thanks, Alan,” said Takeru, and took a polite little sip of tea. Makoto wondered why Takeru didn’t just date Alan, if he liked Alan so much.

Makoto had to go to an appointment that afternoon, so he left Takeru and Alan sitting together in the café. When he got home, Alan was already back and sitting on the sofa with Kanon; watching one of the girly romance dramas she liked so much. Makoto found them torture to sit through but Alan had a remarkable capacity for keeping track of the characters, storylines and relationships.

Kanon got to her feet when she saw him, “Hello, onii-chan. We’re watching _Love’s Melody_.” She gestured for him to sit beside them on the sofa.

“The show in which Ayaka, portrayed by Mizoguchi Erina, is conflicted between her brilliant yet troubled piano teacher and the rebellious upperclassman whose one solace from his tragic home life is his passion for European opera,” said Alan.

Makoto blinked.

“That’s right!” Kanon beamed at him, “Prince Alan always remembers! Aren’t you going to watch with us, onii-chan?”

Makoto wished she wouldn’t call him _Prince_ Alan. It had been an in-joke between them when they had first met Alan as children; because he was rich and handsome and, in Kanon’s view, just like a fairytale prince.  The reality, as Makoto had found out, was somewhat different.

“No, thanks. I’ve got stuff to do,” said Makoto, and went to his room to get changed. He was going to the gym.  He welcomed anything that would distract him from wondering why that feeling of uncertainty still lingered, when Alan was on paper everything that one could want in a boyfriend.

Makoto got home rather late, and when he did, Alan was dozing lightly. Makoto got into bed, careful not to wake him; and turned over. Upon feeling the warmth of a familiar body, Alan reached to pull Makoto towards him, lips pursed expectantly for a kiss.

Alan looked so sweet that Makoto couldn’t decline.

***

Takeru and Alan had agreed that they would try to get Makoto more involved in the creative process this time around. Since Takeru did most of the songwriting, this meant that Makoto would be co-writing lyrics with them. The three of them were sitting in the basement of the Daitenkuu Temple, trying to come up with words to a gentle rock ballad that Takeru had recently composed.

As Makoto scribbled on paper, Alan leant over Makoto’s shoulder to read it, “Specter. We can’t perform this.”

Makoto fixed Alan with a firm look, “We agreed that I will have an equal share in writing lyrics.”

Alan took the notepad out of Makoto’s hands and read “‘ _If eyes are windows to the soul, yours belong in a derelict building that’s just been vandalised again.’_ No audience is going to take this seriously. _”_

“So what have _you_ written?” Makoto snatched for Alan’s own notes, “ _Your voice led me to a dreamy carousel ride on painted marshmallows and rainbow coloured elephants, and life was cute.’”_

“That’s not bad,” said Takeru. “Maybe we should change it to rainbow coloured ponies?”

“I think those are under copyright,” said Alan.

“Our first song was bad enough. If you write this one, it’ll be a disaster,” said Makoto.

“Consider our audience. They will mostly be young women, and their middle-aged mothers, attracted to our good looks and probably fans of Takeru’s cooking show. We are not writing for middle school aged emo kids,” said Alan.

“I do not write songs for emo kids!” Makoto heard his voice crack, and he winced. He knew he was being ridiculous, but all the same, he felt himself getting angrier. Alan knew exactly how to push Makoto’s buttons and say the things guaranteed to annoy him most.

“Well, Alan’s lyrics are more appropriate. It’s an upbeat romantic ballad. We could use yours for another song?” Takeru suggested.

“Forget it. I’m going home,” said Makoto, and stood up.

“I’m coming with you,” said Alan.

Makoto faced him, “No, you’re not. I’m moving out. It’s over.”

“What about Kanon-chan?” said Takeru.

“She’ll be fine. If she likes him so much _she_ can live with him,” said Makoto.

He left in high dudgeon and on his motorbike.

Later, inside the cheap capsule hotel where he was staying, he tried to get some sleep. He’d already missed about twenty calls from Alan, several more from Takeru and had a long, tearful conversation with Kanon, who was sobbing and begging him to come home. He didn’t feel that he had much choice. If he moved out, she would have to come with him, and that would mean that he’d effectively be leaving her without a home. But if Alan moved out, she would blame Makoto. He was an adult, free to make his own decisions, and Kanon wasn't a child any more. At some point, she’d have to learn to accept that sometimes he had to do what was best for himself as well as her; and yet Makoto couldn’t bring himself to disappoint her.

It _wasn’t_ the lyrics or the stupid texts or even Alan never paying attention to a word Makoto said. It was something else. But what?

Makoto’s mind went to Akari, who frequently argued with Onari about every subject under the sun, yet she was very much in love with him and they were married with two children. How had _they_ made it work? He looked at his phone. It was too late to get in touch with her now, so he resolved to text her first thing.

Akari cut to the chase. He liked that about her.

***

Makoto was drinking tea at the temple with Akari, who had obligingly let him know when Takeru would be out.

“He’s really upset, you know. You all worked so hard to make the reunion happen, and now this,” she said.

“Yeah.” Makoto didn’t want to think about that just yet, so he got to the point, “I wanted to talk about you and Onari.”

“Us? Why?” She frowned, and then said “This is to do with you and Alan, right?”

“Right.”

She took a few sips of tea, thinking to herself for a minute or two of silence; then said “Onari is clumsy and overbearing and really, really annoying – but he’s a wonderful person. Isn’t that the way you feel about Alan?”

It was, sometimes. Alan wasn’t clumsy, and he was somewhat less embarrassing in public than Onari was, but he had plenty of faults of his own.

Makoto said, “Why did you marry Onari? You weren’t even dating him.”

“Yeah …” Akari looked uncharacteristically sheepish, “It was his idea. He said he loved me and he wanted to be with me when I win my Nobel Prize. I wasn’t expecting it, but I knew he was being honest with me, so …” Her voice trailed off, “Why’d _you_ get back together with Alan, anyway? All you do is argue with him.”

Makoto couldn’t answer that.

“You can’t keep bringing up stuff from the past. You just have to work at it. Sometimes it’s easier to take things a day at a time,” she said.

Onari came into the room, with their snoozing three-year-old daughter in his arms, “Akari-kun, Master Makoto, are you all right?”

“Shhh. She’s asleep.” Akari reached out her arms for the little girl; who looked like a miniature version of her mother but with pigtails.

“Why don’t we put her to bed? She will wake shortly and request juice,” said Onari.

“It’s not good for her teeth, you know that – and we should stop putting her down for afternoon naps. She’ll be going to nursery school soon, and she has to be there for a full day.”

Akari smiled at Onari, and he stroked her hair, then reached across to kiss their daughter’s cheek. They were an adorable family. All of this slushiness was beginning to make Makoto a little uncomfortable, but all the same, he thought he might have got the idea. Akari and Onari’s relationship worked because they loved each other, and had built something together that they wanted to protect. It was important enough to them that they made sure the arguments didn’t matter, in the end. Makoto didn’t have children with Alan, but they did, or had, shared something precious. Was it worth fighting for?

His phone rang. It was Alan. Makoto was about to find out the answer to his question.

***

“ _You give me that warm sunny feeling, you know the one, when for no proper reason your tummy just goes all weird and you grin like a chimpanzee.”_

Alan launched into an energetic drum solo. Makoto had worked with him to add it to the song, hoping that listeners would pay more attention to that than to what the boys were actually singing. He and Alan were learning to compromise. On some days, that was all they could do; but Akari had been right. Sometimes a small step made all the difference.

“Not bad,” said Takeru, when they finished. “They’ll love the drums.”

“It was a good idea, wasn’t it, Specter?” said Alan, and he reached out for Makoto’s fingers. Makoto squeezed.

“Shall we go for a drink?” he said.

Alan looked at his watch and said “It will have to wait until after our meeting.”

“… Wait. What meeting?” Makoto glanced over at Takeru, whose expression made it clear that he hadn’t been told about any meeting either.

“At two o’ clock. We are going to see an up and coming graphic designer who will create a badass logo to be used on all our tour merchandise. In fact, he had a list of suggestions for us to discuss. Let me find the email.” Alan browsed on his phone, “Gorilla wearing a bandana and smoking a large cigar. Disembodied lips with a tarantula crawling out from them. Two intertwined unicorns with flaming tails and skulls for faces. Clown with a bazooka …”

“What about regular unicorns?” said Takeru.

Makoto closed his eyes, and made a mental note to think twice before he asked a friend for advice again.


End file.
